Fade Date
by Nebulad
Summary: "I think my memories of this place are skewing the scenery," Solas said with a faint twist of his mouth. She couldn't tell how he felt about that. "It's very pretty," she offered, hardly able to tear her gaze away from it. She loved flowers. "Hardly genuine, though. Perhaps I'm trying to impress you."


Solas was practically fluttering around her quarters, trying to organize the room to accommodate Fade-walking. That meant no candles, all books placed carefully so they wouldn't fall, windows latched shut, and curtains closed. Saevin watched from the wide, unmade Orlesian bed with a grin on her face. She wore his tunic thrown hastily over herself (and far too big in the shoulders which impressed and irritated her) with the golden blankets thrown carelessly around her to make a sort of nest. He was stripped down to his leggings- or rather, had only just put them on- and was rushing around the room so fast he seemed a hair's breadth away from Fade-stepping right off the balcony.

She'd been laying on him when he had asked her, in passing, if she had any interest in perhaps exploring the Fade with him. He'd sounded as if he'd expected her to refuse, but it was a foolish question- of course she wanted to. The way that he talked about the memories he'd seen, spirits he'd met... she wanted to learn, to see things with her own eyes instead of secondhand through his stories. In truth she'd wanted him to show her long before this moment, but hadn't been able to muster the courage to ask.

"Are you ready, vhenan?" he asked, finally approaching her seat. She nodded, settling back and pulling him with her. He went willingly and settled the blankets more naturally around them both. He'd admitted to being unfamiliar with beds- _haven't slept in one for a very long time... one like this, anyway, _he'd said upon seeing the downright excessive Orlesian sled Josie had procured for the Inquisitor- but seemed to settle in nicely.

"Do I just go to sleep?" she asked, trying to calm herself down enough for a nap.

"That would be ideal," he said, altering their position slightly so that she could lie on her stomach. He'd slept next to her enough to know that however she fell asleep she would end up on her stomach and probably on top of him, so sometimes it was best to just let it happen.

She shut her eyes and breathed out hard, still feeling his eyes on her. She thought about counting halla, meetings with Orlesian nobility, talking to Cullen, but still found sleep illusive. It was especially difficult with him there next to her, the way his breathing had gone shaky and his hand rested anxiously on the small of her back and how he was almost _fidgeting. _She snorted out a giggle that may have made her self-conscious once upon a time, and rolled over to sit on him. He smiled at her _(Elgar'nan his smiles were like sunlight) _and moved his hands to her thighs habitually. She leaned down to hover over him, peppering kisses across his cheeks.

"Bit difficult to fall asleep with you _squirming, _lethallin," she teased, kissing the bridge of his nose where it would scrunch up whenever he was irritated. He pulled her back towards him, his hand on her chin, to give her one of _those _kisses, the slow and soft ones that were mostly to show off and partially because she suspected it gave him an excuse to grab onto her ass like she was going to float away.

He pulled back with a wet noise that made her huff, and shifted her back onto the mattress. "I could cast a sleep spell," he offered, "if you find my mere presence so... distracting." She shoved him a bit, laughing as red crawled down her neck and into the dip of his tunic.

"If it'll help. Won't I just wake up when the spell's done?" she asked, pressing herself closer to him. He was warm, almost unnaturally warm so that sometimes she couldn't bear to have him next to her and the blankets on. It was mostly a relief though- Fereldan was much colder than the Marches had ever gotten and his heat meant she could sleep in a little less than a full snow suit.

"If we go deep enough into the Fade I believe your body will fall asleep naturally before the spell ends," he answered, fussing over her for a moment. He'd told her a thousand times about falling asleep in improper positions that caused enough discomfort to jolt the dreamer out of the Fade, and evidently he found it more difficult to manoeuvre more than one person. "Are you ready, vhenan?" he asked when he was satisfied, finally settling down with his mouth against her shoulder. She grinned, feeling her back burn with a blush.

"I'm ready, Solas," she said, fidgeting just a little. He pressed his hand gently against her forehead and she shut her eyes...

When she opened them, she was in camp. Lavellan camp, to be precise, only entirely emptied of people. _You're in the Fade. Don't forget, _she scolded herself, moving quickly towards the tents. She didn't see Solas but had no idea how much or how little effort it took for him to find dreams. He probably needed a few minutes to fall asleep himself, which left her alone in her eerie, abandoned childhood home.

Curiosity overwhelmed her for a moment, so she wandered towards the Keeper's tent. It stood out simply because it was older than all the rest- a relic passed down through and maintained by each Keeper throughout the years. She pressed her hand against the fabric, gnawing her lip. She would be Keeper one day, assuming she lived through this Corypheus thing... only she couldn't imagine Solas consenting to live among the Dalish. She remembered him telling her about how, to find new places in the Fade, he found it necessary to travel. The Dalish _travelled, _certainly... in a rather predictable manner to the same places repeatedly...

"Vhenan?" He had leaned down right by her ear, which he did _constantly._

"Dread Wolf's _nuts, _Solas, I am going to buy you a fucking _bell _if you keep sneaking up on me!" she hissed, taking a half-hearted swipe at him. He laughed and put his arms around her, turning her so he could kiss her. She accepted the gesture though it wasn't meant as an apology, putting her arm around his neck to urge him close. "I wasn't kidding," she promised when he pulled away to change the angle, hardly able to breathe the words before he kissed her again. Something about the Fade always made him so bold.

"I would never doubt you," he agreed, brushing his hand against her cheekbone. She refused his next kiss, pulling back for a bit of air. He pressed his forehead against hers, grinning so widely it seemed to barely fit on his face. She laughed.

"So did you bring me here to kiss me or was there something you wanted me to see?" she asked. He pulled back and she felt the loss of heat keenly for a moment. He looked around, eyes slightly squinted as he observed the tents and tables that were as familiar to her as her own limbs.

"Your camp, I take it?" he asked. She nodded. "Well, this is your dream so it shouldn't be a surprise. I was hoping we'd end up in Skyhold, but the sleep spell... yes, the use of the spell instead of fading into sleep naturally set you to dreaming instead of simply being in the Fade." He walked forward and she followed anxiously. She waited for him to criticize the camp but the words never came. "We can still leave, if you would like to see more?" he asked, offering her his hand. She took it, holding a bit more tightly than she meant to. "You aren't frightened, are you vhenan?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, not... quite... I just don't usually leave my own little corner," she said, rushing to stand a bit closer to him. "Keeper Dashana always told me it was safest to simply stay put." He pulled a face and she laughed quietly, squeezing his hand.

"Are you prepared to disobey your Keeper, Saevin?" he asked, the challenge clear in his voice. She snorted.

"My Keeper also told me that non-Dalish men wanted to despoil me. Sometimes you take what your Keeper says with a grain of salt," she said flatly, mildly irritated at the implication that she'd never disobeyed Dashana before. He began walking forward and she was careful to stay close to him.

"Did she say non-Dalish men, or flat-ears?" he asked, not seeming at all alarmed as they left the camp behind. She rolled her eyes.

"Do you really have to ask?" It had been difficult to train herself never to use the word 'flat-ear', once Solas had carefully explained to her why it would offend city-born elves. _To most of them, lethallan, the Dalish are no more than fairytales. They are in awe of your presence, and the immediate dismissal of them as 'flat-eared' and not quite Elvhen enough is hurtful._ She hadn't needed too much prodding, but she had grown sensitive to the word.

The grass slowly began to get taller and darker, a much purer shade of green than it had been in camp. Soon the only path that remained to them was a few silvery stones that rose periodically out of the ankle-deep plants. Trees appeared more frequently until they were walking in the shade of a thick ceiling of greenery, with vines hanging down from the apex like thick snakes and moss growing so heavily on the trunks that it almost seemed to breathe. She kept a tight hold of Solas' hand, especially when she began to sense spirits lingering just out of sight, floating tentatively at the very edge of her vision. "They do not know you, vhenan. Give them a moment to judge how dangerous you are to them," Solas murmured. She nodded and tried to take a few deep breaths. The air smelled of wet halla and baking bread, which was an strange combination.

"Are we near a town?" she asked softly, trying not to alarm a little wisp that had ventured close enough to her that she could look at it without frightening it away. It was soft blue and twisted around her legs in a mostly harmless fashion, only occasionally tripping her. Solas caught her stumble and smiled fondly.

"Of sorts. You seem to have attracted a spirit of mischief," he said, holding his hand out for it. It swirled up his arm to his collar, pulling back on the fabric hard enough to make him falter. "It's harmless, if annoying, and probably the best we'll do for now. Larger spirits have larger concerns than intruders." She nodded and watched the little blue orb float on the quiet wind that managed to blow through the thick bushes around them.

"Which town are we near?" she asked, looking around for any sign of civilization besides the smell of food on the wind. The forest breathed around them, with leaves rustling as they settled into place while small spirits imitating animals rushed around to try and catch each other. The mischief spirit she had attracted dropped to the ground and became a little nug, rushing on just ahead of them and occasionally swatting at the other spirit nugs that attempted to waylay it.

"An old town, no more than a ruin now. I thought perhaps you would be interested in the memories it holds," he said with a smug little smile on his face. It seemed he would give her no more information than that, content to meander through the woods with her. _Joke's on you. I'm Dalish and wandering through the woods never gets old._

It was nice, admittedly, to have a moments peace with him. Their destination was unknown but the journey carried no risk of ending because someone just _desperately _needed the Herald's attention. She was even enjoying the forest, as odd as it sounded- it reminded her of the Emerald Graves, with heavy veils of dark ivy with little white budding flowers on it that swung down from high branches, and unfathomably large trees that had collapsed over the path to create a moss-laden arch for them to pass under. "Have you been here before?" she asked, remembering to speak with him in between all her gawking.

"In the Fade version or in the physical place?" he asked.

"Both."

"Yes." She rolled her eyes and her grip on his hand got looser as she wandered towards where the little blue spirit nugs were playing. She dropped him altogether to crouch down by their little group. Her little blue one had attracted one in a darker shade of blue, two of them in genuine nug-skin pink, and one in the foggiest green she had ever seen. They seemed to be wrestling with occasional stops to keep up with her and Solas.

She held out her hands to them. Mischief and the green spirit gnawed toothlessly at her fingers, while the darkest blue one showed no interest in her. One of the pink ones followed his disinterested blue brother, while the final pink spirit nug rubbed against her hand as if it wanted to be petted. She gnawed her lip and may have cooed a little bit. She freed her fingers from the two little bastards chewing on them and lifted the cuddly nug-spirit to carry. Solas watched her, a faintly amused look on his face. "A spirit of love," he told her.

"Well it's working because I _love _it," she said, rubbing her finger gently against the skin on its head. It was almost indiscernible from a real nug, aside from a cloudy pink aura that hovered around it and smoked when she touched it. Solas absently reached around her waist to guide her into a turn on the path while she kept the little Love pressed tightly against her chest.

"You aren't frightened of it?" he asked.

"It's a nug, Solas. It's a Love-Nug. Which part of that am I supposed to be afraid of?" she asked. He snorted, shaking his head with that same silly grin on his face. He said little but she was almost completely sure that he was enjoying himself.

"If I brought Sera here she probably would have trampled your poor Love-Nug," he said. He hadn't removed his hand from her waist despite the fact that their path had become fairly linear, which made her smile. The Love-Nug made the weird croaking sound that she associated with regular nugs but was somehow sweeter coming from it.

"It would be a hot day in the Frostbacks before you consented to spend any sort of recreational time within ten yards of Sera," she teased.

"A fair point- we're almost to the town now," he said.

"Do I have to put down Snuggles?"

"Snuggles?" His voice was flat.

"Did I stutter, vhenan?" she asked sweetly.

"It's a spirit of love, lethallan. It's name is Love," he argued, without any heat. _So touchy about his damn spirits. _

"Oh great and powerful spirit of love, how do you feel about the name Snuggles?" she asked, rubbing the weird folding bits of skin around its neck. Snuggles the Love-Nug cooed in her arms again. "Oh now see? Grumpy is outnumbered and fun is once again allowed!" she declared. He cast her a look out of the corner of his eye.

"Grumpy now, is it?" he asked with a faint smile.

"Only when you are, lethallin." She cradled Snuggles in her elbow and reached for his hand again. Perhaps she only imagined the faint pinkness around his ears, but it made her grin just the same.

They passed a field filled with little blossoms of every colour, that filled the air with the clean smell of flowers and wind that almost blotted out the stench of halla entirely. The food smell was so strong that she couldn't understand how they hadn't seen a building yet. She was almost tempted to go pick flowers, but struggled to remind herself that what she was seeing wasn't real and picking the flowers would only ruin the scene. "I think my memories of this place are skewing the scenery," Solas said with a faint twist on his mouth. She couldn't tell how he felt about that.

"It's very pretty," she offered, hardly able to tear her gaze away from it. She loved flowers.

"Hardly genuine, though. Perhaps I'm trying to impress you," he suggested, pulling her along and past the clearing. The trees were beginning to thin enough to herald the approach of buildings (that she still couldn't see), and the press of spirits was becoming stronger with every step. "There may be larger spirits amidst the town, vhenan," he warned.

"Spirits or demons?" she asked quietly.

"Am I really the right person to answer that?"

"Aggressive or not?" she tried. He tilted his head for a moment, then simply shrugged his shoulders. It was an oddly casual gesture for him and she liked it immensely.

"I couldn't say. I suppose we'll see," he offered carelessly. She laughed.

"Sera would never let you get away with such a vague answer," she scolded.

"I would never bring Sera within a thousand yards of this place," he said with a strange hardness to his voice. She squeezed his fingers before dropping his hand to rearrange Snuggles, whose tiny claws were digging into the tender skin on her arm. She noticed for the first time that she was wearing her normal fair- a simple tunic with a long jacket- instead of the clothes she had fallen asleep in. He was fully dressed as well although she was _certain _he hadn't been when they'd gone to bed (she'd taken specific care to ensure that he wasn't, as a matter of fact).

"How does the Fade decide what we wear?" she asked, quickly shuffling up to him. She'd fallen behind only slightly in her efforts to right her little Love-Nug.

"A mixture of habit and subconscious desire, I suppose. I doubt you would want to be wandering the forest in my shirt?" he asked. She shrugged.

"If it was just the forest I might be all right with it. I'm Dalish remember? Very used to wandering the woods with next to nothing on," she said, only mostly joking. He grinned.

"And here I thought I disliked all Dalish clans- turns out I was simply visiting the wrong ones," he teased, pulling her forward by her hand to kiss her again. It was quick, though, and he moved them through to a new clearing before she'd even realized that he'd pulled away.

She gasped out loud, clutching Snuggles to her chest in surprise. In the clearing was clearly where civilization was- what seemed like thousands of translucent spirits pressed together in the mummery of a town, humming and burbling with chatter that had the same melody as the Elvish that Solas spoke. Most buildings were made of what had to be crystal, catching the dim light that filtered through the thick green foilage and making it burst from the surface in a thousand different iridescent colours. Spires of glass twisted among the trees, almost as an extension of them as vines reached out with heavy hands to twist around the delicate tapering design. Their silver-stone path became more orderly, less sporadic in design, and hummed with an unnamed magic that simply _sang _to the mana in Saevin's blood. Complex runes of every colour glimmered and pulsed against the polished stone they were carved in, whistling through the water that poured out of a fountain-statue's mouth. The figure seemed faintly Elvhen in a way that Sae couldn't wrap her mind around, and seemed to sing the same song that echoed from the magic in the stones.

She didn't even remember that Solas was there until she heard him laugh quietly. "It's no Arlathan, but I suppose when you're immortal you have more time to perfect the art of town-building," he said, his arms clasped behind his back. For once, he seemed anxious.

"This is-" There were no _words_ she could use, not even enough air in her lungs to make a fumbling attempt to say them. Her throat felt tight and her arms shook around the squirmy Love-Nug she may have been holding a bit too hard. She loosened her grip, putting the poor thing down altogether and watching it scurry off into the press of the chattering crowd. "Can the spirits... can they see us?" she asked, her voice wobbling dangerously.

"I imagine they could, if they cared. Spirits are delightfully single-minded, though, and if their primary focus is reenacting this town life then they will hardly interrupt themselves on our behalf," he said, his eyes tracing the path of a few of the closer figures. "You do not have to worry about being attacked, vhenan," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm not!" she insisted. "I only... they look like they're all... _there,"_ she said helplessly, gesturing towards the buildings. He smiled.

"They _are _all there," he reminded her. She reached out to hold his hand, hoping he would do her the courtesy of pretending like her fingertips weren't trembling. She felt a bit of static building on her palm but he didn't seem concerned. "I would hesitate to dare build anymore fanciful ideas about Ancient Elves in your head- indeed the best part about this place is that it was far enough away from society that the ferocity of the culture barely touched it- but I thought you might appreciate... seeing. For yourself," he said, running his thumb across her knuckles.

"By the Dread Wolf I don't think I've ever... shit..." She moved forward jerkily before coming to a stop. He patiently followed her while she tried to collect herself. "Solas," she said helplessly, gesturing outwards. He smiled and nodded sympathetically. "We can't rebuild this," she insisted. "This is just... all of this is just gone. The Dalish can't do this- the Dalish _wouldn't _do this."

"You can understand, then, my frustration," he said absently. She nodded, tracing the tallest crystal tower against the dark green sky with her eyes. She was getting progressively less effective at stopping her tears. "Saevin? Vhenan, I did not bring you here to upset you-," he began, but she shook her head.

"I know, Solas, ignore me. I only..."

Her eyes snapped open as a hard knocked pounded against the heavy door at the bottom of the stairs. It took her a minute, through the continuous knocking, to remember where she was. Ornate and writhing runes burned behind her eyes as she clumsily sat up and squinted at the light coming through the stained Dalish glass windows. Skyhold. She was in Skyhold and she'd been awakened by knocking at the door of her quarters.

Solas stirred beside her, propping himself up on his elbows and rubbing at his eyes with a groaning yawn. She grinned- sleepy Solas, although not unusual, was almost unfairly endearing- and slowly swung her legs out of bed, stretching her back enough to crack it.

"Don't answer the door in my tunic, Sae," he grumbled, clearly irritated at having being roused before he planned. She lifted it over her head and tossed it on him (he gave a vague grunt of acknowledgement but she didn't miss how he flopped over in bed so that he was facing her), wandering over to her wardrobe to throw on one of her nightgowns that Vivienne had insisted that she own. Mostly of them were translucent at best, but this one was short and had an accompanying housecoat to go over it (Creators forbid she dare to wear a housecoat meant for a different outfit).

Cassandra was at the door, wondering if she was even still alive. It was around nine in the morning and people were beginning to ask why the Inquisitor hadn't risen yet to address the waist-deep stack of reports, fussy nobles, or brand-new prisoners. "I was sleeping," Saevin said flatly. Cassandra raised one very well-sculpted eyebrow.

"I haven't seen Solas today either," she commented in her flawless Nevarran accent.

"He was also sleeping. Now I suppose he's pouting," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Cassandra rolled her eyes and made a noise.

"Just be ready to work soon, Inquisitor," she insisted, turning to walk away. "I can only buy you an hour."

"You're the best Cassandra!" she called after the Seeker, who waved her hand absently in acknowledgement. Saevin could do many things alone with Solas in the span of an hour- or perhaps forty-five minutes, to give them time to make themselves presentable.

She scrambled back upstairs as fast as she could, jumping into the bed so suddenly that she was pretty sure she startled him awake again. He didn't seem to mind, pulling her to sit on him. "Who was at the door?" he asked groggily, running his thumb across her tailbone.

"Cassandra, wondering if the Herald was still alive and _where is _that Arcane Advisor we hired?" she said. He snorted. His role as Arcane Advisor had been incredibly small upon the arrival of every mage in Fereldan- not that he minded.

"So we've been summoned?" he asked, sitting up. She put her hand against his chest and shoved him back down. _That _woke him up.

"We have an hour," she reported with a grin. He raised his head in understanding, his hands slipping just a bit lower than her tailbone.


End file.
